Prestige Academy 1 Read online

  Prestige Academy 1

  Book of Spells

  S L H

  S L H

  Copyright © 2020 by S L H

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Cover By

  Melody Simmons

  Dedication

  To my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,

  my mother, Cornella for all your love and support

  And my dearest friend, Giulia.

  Contents

  1. Fix It

  2. Once Upon A Time

  Ayanna

  3. Love Struck

  Hunter

  4. Tour De Academy

  Ayanna

  5. Pop! Goes The Weasel

  Ayanna

  6. Little Black Book

  Hunter

  7. Butt Shot

  Ayanna

  8. The Problem Fixer

  Ayanna

  9. Obeah

  Ayanna

  10. Deal With The Devil

  Hunter

  11. That’s What Friends Are For

  Hunter

  12. Demons

  Ayanna

  13. Drag Her!

  Ayanna

  14. Too Good To Be True

  Ayanna

  15. Ding, Dong, The Knight Is Dead

  Ayanna

  16. Playing With Fire

  Ayanna

  17. Ex-Spelled

  Hunter

  18. Money Pit

  Hunter

  19. Douche Squared

  Ayanna

  20. The Duke

  Ayanna

  21. Bully

  Ayanna

  22. On The Hunt

  Hunter

  23. Murder, She Wrote

  Ayanna

  24. White Knight

  Ayanna

  25. Show Down

  Ayanna

  26. Chess Not Checkers

  Ayanna

  27. See Through You

  Ayanna

  28. Duke It Out

  Hunter

  29. Devious Plans

  Hunter

  30. King Me!

  Ayanna

  31. Sweet Well-Mannered Boy

  Hunter

  32. How Low Can I Go?

  Hunter

  33. Can’t Get Her Out Of My Head

  Hunter

  34. Nothing More Than Feelings

  Hunter

  35. I Joined The Cheerleading Team

  Ayanna

  36. Stomp N Shake

  Ayanna

  37. Rumble In The Jungle

  Hunter

  38. To Catch A Thief

  Hunter

  39. What About Your Friends?

  Ayanna

  40. Free Fallin’

  Hunter

  41. Bonnie And Clyde

  Hunter

  42. Desperate

  Ayanna

  43. Finders Keepers

  Hunter

  44. A Knight In Shinning Armour

  Hunter

  45. Kiss Me

  Ayanna

  46. Punk’D

  Hunter

  47. Fire With Fire

  Ayanna

  48. Heartbreaker

  Hunter

  49. Ghost of Harvest Moon Past

  Ayanna

  50. Spell Check

  Ayanna

  51. Grab Bully By The Horns

  Ayanna

  52. It Was You All Along?!

  Ayanna

  53. Fix This

  Hunter

  Prestige Academy Series

  New Addition: A Krystal Blaze Theme

  Preview

  Also by S L H

  1 Fix It

  It was Harvest Moon night, and I was in the midst of a celebration…a spectacle…a riot. Darkness surrounded me, and for a brief moment, everything was still. The rapidness of my breathing only added to my dizziness—the calm before the storm.

  I opened my eyes.

  An explosion of noises bombarded my senses, as an army of students in opposing colours clashed all around me. Bodies smashed together, muddled with cheers and jeers from bystanders. Toilet paper rolls tossed all around, and handheld horns blasted into the air.

  Chaos erupted on the estate of Prestige Academy, and all I could do was stare. Am I the cause of all this madness? Absolutely. Tensions were already high at the outdoor wrestling match when I triggered the frenzy, which seemed to be in no hurry to settling down.

  Breaking away from the mob was easy enough, why couldn’t everything else be so simple? My hopes were high on the first day of school. Now, I was running into the forest like an animal led on a leash. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Unfortunately, there were no do-overs. Instead, I am left to replay the events that led up to this moment, and wonder if there is any way for me to fix this.

  2 Once Upon A Time

  Ayanna

  -27 Days Earlier-

  They say history repeats itself. I pray they are wrong, which is why I’m here. I want, no I need a fresh start—a way to escape my memories. I rubbed my fingers over the scaly textured scab of my palms, and then made a fist. Hopefully, this is the moment of a new beginning. So why do I have an eerie feeling my past is lurking somewhere in the background, waiting to jump out and devour me?

  The morning light lingered on my back, promising to darken my exposed skin. My body instinctively sucked in all the rays as if the sun was my mother, and I was a nursing infant. As a child, I’d tell anyone who listened fire, not blood, circulated throughout my veins. My dad would laugh at my absurd imagination while my mom would hush any such talk in public. Certain things were only for my mom and I to discuss, and not for others, not even my father.

  I'm a fire witch with magic bubbling inside of me, yet I was raised to suppress my instinct to let it overflow. Growing up, I read comic books about superheroes discovering their powers as teenagers. That was never me. As a cradle witch, I was born with my magic. Once I turn 16, I’ll be able to renounce it. At that point, I'll be like everyone else. I'll be normal. Examining the circular pink scab in the middle of my palms, I rubbed my fingers over it before making a fist so no one could see my scars.

  Soon there will be no more hiding.

  I stood on one of the many long winding trails, which I hoped led to the steps of my new private boarding school. I was in awe of the massive compound. The photos on the invitation I received in the mail, did not do the property justice. There were several stony paths that went in various directions towards different facilities on campus. It was all so intimidating and it’s only been 3 minutes. My knees began to shake so I walked along the trail to hide my apprehension.

  The winds rushed around me and I swore they felt different compared to the winds back home. I stood on one of the many long winding trails, which I guessed led to the steps of the school.

  Prestige Academy was a private institution for privileged children, located in rural Nova Scotia, and I’m a black girl from the inner city of Toronto. The upper crust of the country decided to demonstrate their charity by offering an outsider a full scholarship. Based on my academics, I made the cut. I can mingle with the teenagers of the wealthy, powerful, and most distinguished of this world.

  "…So, I told her, I'll rip out her trashy extensions!"

  I was jolted out of my thoughts by the two uniformed students who passed.

  "But aren't you afraid she'll rip out yours?"

  "I hate her so much, I'm willing to take that risk."

  Threats of extension pulling on the first day of school? If my eyes were closed, I'd swear I was still at Rexdale High. My expression must have looked jarring because the girl with the trashy extensions, stopped short in front of me and glared.

  "Problem?" she asked, with her brunette friend a step behind her. Her provoking stance alone would trigger an immediate beat down in my old neighbourhood.

  Problem? I could list a page filled with problems to counter back, all of them insulting. Was I really about to get into a brawl with a classmate before I set foot in my new school? I'm already the only black student at Prestige, the last thing I want to do is add angry black student to my transfer form. Plus, I left all that fighting mess in Toronto. No sense in starting my new school with old school problems.

  Instead, I swallowed hard…really hard and forced a smile. "Actually, today is my first day here. I was told to go to the lobby. Where would that be?" I put on that voice. The one that garnered a "you speak so well" from certain groups. It always worked like a charm—immediate de-escalation.

  The blonde's demeanour changed as she straightened up and returned my smile. "You're headed in the right direction. Just follow the path to the end and go straight up the stairs. There, you should find a tour guide to assist you."

  What do you know? I still got it—immediate de-escalation.

  "Thanks," I said, as the teens continued on their way in a completely different route. They whispered, looking back at me as I stayed on the path and eventually stood at the Academy steps.

  The school resembled a castle. Just beholding it was daunting. Running back to dad’s car did cross my mind. Too bad he’s long gone. Plus, the gates were locked behind me, and they were the kind of gates that were impossible to scale. A sense of dread and anxiousness were th
reatening to take over. The back of my hand wiped away a bead of sweat from my forehead. I grew up around the criminality of the inner city, surviving a bougie place like this should be effortless. Right? Before I could think otherwise, I quickly jogged up the stairs toward the building's large open doors. Not only did I stand out amongst the crowd because of my dark skin tone, but I was also in my civvies. I wore a white top and a casual pair of yellow shorts with my spiral curly hair down.

  Looking around the entrance, I was taken aback by the massive doorway. It was like walking into a museum, and I half expected to find dinosaur skeletons on the inside. I must have looked like a tourist because people were obviously staring at me as though I were some ancient relic of the past. Instead of dinosaurs, I was the one on display in the exhibit.

  "Hi. Are you looking for someone?"

  A classy bright blonde student stood at the doorway with a clipboard pressed against her hip. Instantly, I was captivated by her flawless smile and lively voice. She was wearing a white polo shirt and knee-high socks to go with her kilt. Her hair was tied in an elegant bun, resting on the top of her head. We were the same height, though her frame was thin.

  "I'm sorta looking for someone. I'm a new student. Today is my first day. I was told to report to the foyer for a tour of the estate."

  Her hazel eyes brightened as she bounced on her toes in delight. The black ballet style shoes looked so comfy on her tiny feet. "Oh! Well, you're in the right place. I'm a part of the Welcome Committee." She rolled her eyes in a humble brag sort of way as she touched her small chest. "As a cheerleader, it comes naturally."

  Of course, she’s a cheerleader—it was either that or a ballerina.

  "Ayayayayayayaya!"

  I jumped in response to the shrieking noise coming from a greenish-blue bird I didn't notice was there. It was perched on a bird stand, walking along the length of its staff. If she told me that sound was the fire alarm, I'd believe it.

  My tour guide muffled a laugh at my reaction. "That's Shield, the parrot. He's our former school mascot."

  "Former?"

  "Yes, now that he's getting up there in age, he was promoted to the Welcoming Committee."

  The Academy promotes mascots? What a life!

  She stroked the bird with a gentle hand, and he revelled at her touch, dipping his head down for her fingers to scratch more of his head. "Say hi, Shield."

  "Ayayayayayayaya!"

  I waved, feeling silly, but it was a cute looking bird. I think Shield smiled at me.

  "He can't see you."

  Maybe not. "Oh." I sheepishly lowered my hand.

  "He's blind in one eye. Use your other hand to wave."

  I did as she suggested and waved again, but I couldn't be too sure Shield saw me.

  Tapping her pen to the clipboard, she asked, "Name?"

  "Ayanna Parkinson."

  "You're Ayanna!" Her mouth hung open with every syllable spoken while she scrutinized every inch of me. "I was expecting someone…"

  She caught herself as her voice trailed off, but I couldn't let her totally drop her sentence. Not when she was getting to the good part. I prompted her to continue, "Yes?"

  After some hesitation, she said, "Well, the other day when Headmaster Van Duke said I would be escorting Ayanna around, I pictured…tall, foreign accent, bleached-blonde hair, with a killer tan from spending her summer lying around on a yacht."

  I snorted at her detailed description. She got the killer tan part right. "I'm the complete opposite of what you imagined. I'm just a regular student."

  "You're hardly regular. You’re a strong young woman. In fact, you’ll add some much-needed flavour to our school." She grabbed my arm and held on tight. "Flavour. Was that offensive?"

  I stifled a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm not shy. I'll let you know when you're offensive. Right now, I find you amusing."

  "I'll have you know, I did a project last year about the runaway slaves of the Underground Railroad. That must be why the Headmaster picked me to give you the tour. I know all about the plight of African-Americans."

  African-Americans? She was so proud in her wrongness, I almost let it slide. Almost. "I'm not African-American. I was born here."

  Her eyes became as small as the heads of two pins. "So, what does that make you?"

  "The same as you."

  Her face went blank.

  "Canadian," I clarified.

  She shook her head adamantly. "That doesn't sound right." Tapping the bottom of her lip with her pen, she asked, "What about African-Canadian?"

  On account of my father's Jamaican background and my mother's distant Jamaican heritage, African-Canadian wouldn't work either. "My family's Jamaican."

  "Which…makes…you…" She puckered her lips and used the pen to scratch her scalp.

  Poor confused girl. That’s the same face I make when I’m multiplying fractions.

  "Ayayayayayayaya!" The bird alarm went off again as I covered my ears with my hands.

  "Shut that bird up!" Someone shouted from the steps below.

  "You shut up!" she yelled back, sounding as loud as the parrot. Cheerleading must have helped with her voice projection. Her face was flushed as she smoothed out her shirt and patted the back of her hair, making sure every strand was in place. "Excuse my outburst in response to my classmate. This Academy may be called Prestige, but you will soon find that some of the students fall short."

  Something tells me she's not including her outburst in that statement.

  "Anyway, what's most important is you made it here safely." She attached her pen to the clipboard. "Follow me while I show you around the estate."

  As she led me through the Academy, I kept in step, soaking in the foyer's vastness. Large pictures of, I presumed to be, infamous men, hung on the walls. Had my guide not been walking so fast, I would’ve taken the time to read the names. My curiosity compelled me to seek out subtle details. Instead, I let her go about showing me the official tour without interrupting. I was tempted to ask my companion to pinch me to make sure everything was real.

  "My name is Chrissy Stan-Crosser," she swayed her hand in the air as she spoke. "Since you’re new here, people will only care to know your last name before your first name. It's a status thing."

  Crosser, huh? "Are you by any chance related to the politician Crosser?"

  "Yup, that's my father."

  "He's my Premier. I'm from Toronto, Ontario. Where does the Stan come from?"

  "My mother's great-grandpa started Stan Supplies." She looked so dignified as she spoke, then paused a moment. "I'm not familiar with the Parkinson's."

  "You're not? My family invested heavily in your family's enterprise."

  She perked up.

  "By way of your toilet products. My dad’s a plumber. My parents own their own plumbing business."

  "Franchise?"

  "No, it's the only one in the neighbourhood."

  "How…quaint." If I could find a cup, I'm almost positive she would puke in it. But I'll give it to her, she recovered quickly. We walked along the corridor.

  "Prestige Academy and the Dormitory are as rich in history as it is in students. These structures are roughly 200 years old. They were commissioned by the Middleton’s, one of the wealthiest families in North America. Records for that period are few, so details are lost. All we know is that sometime after the completion of the buildings, there was a fire, and a lot of people died."

  "Is that so?"

  "That's what it says on this page." She waved her clipboard in the air. "Even though we don't know the exact details, one thing is certain, the majority of students here had family who passed through these walls for… generations." Taking a deep breath, she sighed. "It's kinda cool to know my great grandparents roamed these halls."